


Between the Stacks

by onepageatatime715



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, MAAS Sarah J. - Works
Genre: ACourtOfMistAndFury, ACourtOfThornsAndRoses, ACourtOfWingsAndRuin, F/M, Feyre POV, Fluff and Smut, Library Sex, Oral Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, feysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:00:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onepageatatime715/pseuds/onepageatatime715
Summary: WARNING: This work contains spoilers for A Court of Wings and Ruin (and previous books) by Sarah J Maas. Proceed at your own discretion.Set during ACOWAR, Chapter 20, while Rhys and Feyre are in the library searching for some much needed information. Reading, it seems, can get a bit dull, especially with one’s mate nearby (and dressed in tight-fitter Illyrian leathers).Shameless Smut.





	Between the Stacks

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This work contains plot spoilers for A Court of Wings and Ruin (ACOWAR) by Sarah J Maas. Proceed at your own discretion.

My eyes burned, and I blinked as I faced the books. “And I suppose,” I said with an effort at lightness, “that it’s a miracle I can actually _read_ these things.

Rhys’s answering smile was lovely – and just a little bit wicked. “I believe my little lessons helped.”

“Yes, ‘ _Rhys is the greatest lover a female can hope for’_ is undoubtedly how I learned to read.”

“I was only trying to tell you what you now know”

My blood heated a bit “Hmmm,” was all I said, pulling a book toward me.

“I’ll take that _hmmm_ as a challenge.” His hands slid down my thigh, then cupped my knee, his thumb brushing along its side. Even through my leathers, the head of him seeped to my very bones. “Maybe I’ll haul you between the stacks and see how quiet you can be.”

“Hmmm.” I flipped through the pages, not seeing any of the text.

His hand began a lethal, taunting exploration up my thigh, his fingers grazing along the sensitive inside. Higher, higher. He leaned in as if the drag a book towards himself, but whispered in my ear, “Or maybe I’ll spread you out on this desk and lick you until you scream loud enough to scandalize the poor priestesses.”

I whipped my head toward him. His eyes were glazed – almost sleepy.

An act.

Then – a very feline smile. He held my stare as his tongue brushed his bottom lip.

My breasts tightened beneath my shirt, and his gaze dropped – watching.

“I would have though,” he mused, “that our bout this morning would be enough to tide you over until tonight.” His hand slid between my legs, brazenly cupping me, his thumb pushing down on an aching spot. A low groan slipped from me, and my cheeks heated in its wake. “Apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job sating you, it you’re so easily riled after a few hours.”

“Prick,” I breathed, but the word was ragged. His hand pressed down harder, circling roughly.

Even through my leathers, my body cried out for his. _Prick_.

Rhys leaned in again, kissing my neck – that place right under my ear – and said against my skin, “Let’s see what names you call me when my head is between your legs, Feyre darling.”

And then we’re hidden between the stacks, winnowed deeper into the library, me still seated on the chair as Rhys kneels before me, a dark, playful glint in his violet eyes as he observes my breasts, heavy beneath my shirt, and scents my desire.

His hand begins circling my centre again, roughly, and my body cries out for the feeling of his skin on mine, without anything between us.

A low moan escapes me as his other hand slides below the hem of my shirt, drifting casually up to cup my breast, teasing my already sensitive nipple.

 _Rhys._ I growl through the bond.

“Yes, Feyre darling?”

His words are predatory, his tone challenging as his eyes meet mine.

“I think,” I begin, my words cut off by a gasp as Rhys pinches my nipple. “I think I need a reminder of just what the greatest lover a female can hope for is capable of.”

Rhys growled at my words, and I find myself suddenly without clothes – magicked away by Rhys.

He lowers his mouth to me, replacing where his fingers had been, his violet gaze intense as it takes me in, legs spread before him on the chair.

At the first lick, I moan, the feel of him against me, bucking forward to increase the friction – but his hand are on my waist, holding my steady as his tongue begins slow, lazy strokes, savouring me.

My hands are in his hair, running through the silken darkness of it, silently begging him for more, more, more.

I groan again, the sound echoing between the stacks, and he delves deeper, his tongue flicking against my entrance.

“Quiet, Feyre darling,” Rhys smirks slightly, the movements of his lips grazing against me, “We are in a library after all.”

I bite out a curse and a growl.

Rhys begins again, his taunting, teasing movements making it clear he’s aware of the building pressure in my core, of the fire raging inside me as a near the edge.

“Rhys.” I say his name like a plea.

Rhys growls against my centre, the vibrations nearly sending me over the edge as I bite back another moan, my head falling back to lean against the book stack behind my chair.

His hands drift from my waist at last – only to begin slow, torturous circles on my breasts, taunting me as his tongue teases me between my legs.

My climax rips through me with a muffled cry, my elation shining as clearly as day as my skin glows. I shudder against Rhys’ touch, pulling as his hair until his face – his mouth twisted into a feline grin – is even with mine, his hands now braced on the shelves behind me as I pull his body to mine.

“I seem to remember a promise of taking me against the stacks, before all this talk of your head between my legs,” I growl, my hands already slipping to his pants. Rhys’ answering growl is a rumble that reaches my very bones, rekindling the fire in my core.

This – I’ll never be able to get enough of him, of the feeling of him against me, touching me, inside me –

Rhys’ length springs free at last, and I tease him, torturously slow, as my fingers dance along him. Rhys growls again – and then I’m in his arms, pressed against the book stack behind me.

Rhys’s mouth closes over my own as he sheaths himself inside me, swallowing the unchecked moan that escapes my lips as I feel him inside me at last. He moves against me, the book stack shuddering slightly as we push against it. My hands are everywhere – in his hair, clawing along his back, clinging to his arms – and his are likewise engaged.

I move my hips against his, urging him deeper, harder. I’m glowing again – my love for my mate shining clearly between us, the mating bond pulsing with our love.

His wings shield us from behind, flared out as he takes me, and I can’t resist running a finger along that sensitive edge of his wing, knowing the reaction it will elicit.

Rhys lets loose a groan of his own, his breath reverberating against my neck as he presses against me. And at the touch of his fingers, drawing a careful line down the back of my leg, my release tears through me again. Rhys follows me over the edge, and this time I capture his lips in mine to swallow his roar as he finds his pleasure.

We stay pressed against the book stack for several moments, skin slick with sweat, panting out breaths and clinging to one another, as tangled in one another as ever.

“You know, I don’t think I’m in the mood for reading right now,” I finally manage to say.

Rhys’s answering smile matches my own as he winnows us home, directly into bed, so he can take me again, lovingly, as the sun sets over the Night Court.

 


End file.
